A/N:

This chapter summarises why I love this story so much - it's not always the momentous battles that make life "worth it", but it's the moments in between, the lovely little times that one may or may not appreciate; the interactions between you and your loved ones. Mac has a lot of these moments, and quite a few of these loved ones too. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did - this is my favourite 'volume' so far.

Act I: Climbing the Mountain

Volume 7: Calm Before The Storm

Sometimes, it's not about having someone solve your problems for you, but about knowing they're on your side, fighting in your corner, and would be there for you if anything happened.

[ - Little Mac - ]

The stress was killing me.

Everything seemed to be building up - between my friends' problems and the upcoming matches I really, really didn't know where else I could go without being bothered by something new, and I couldn't take it.

Outsource help whenever it becomes too much for you to handle on your own. Doc's words reverberated around in my head. But he was long gone.

So before I could stop myself, I opened my phone and started texting.

Can you come over for a bit?

When?

Now lol

That's… sudden.

But if it helps you, I don't mind.

I waited.

( - National Park | Pokémon Heartgold and Soulsilver - )

"Mac, are you alright?" Palu strode into the room, wearing a beige dress that reached her knees. Her tone was much quieter and gentle, with much less of her usual exuberance.

I think she could tell I wasn't handling… well, life very well.

"Heya. Why don't you come in, first off?"

"Alright." She shrugged off her leather sandals. As she entered, I moved to close the door behind her, making a gentle shutting sound. "Is… there something wrong, Mac?"

She was poking me with the proverbial stick.

"Yeah. I guess there is." I snorted humorlessly. I paused, not quite sure how to initiate. "Thanks for coming by yourself on such short notice, by the way."

Palu sat down on the couch, her posture leaning forward and active.

"You have me available anytime, Mac." She slapped my knee gently, and looked me in the eye. "You can say anything you want here."

"Man, am I grateful to have you as my best friend." I grinned, punching her shoulder lightly, although it felt more, say, obligatory, to punctuate the end of the sentence.

Something twitched below her eye.

"Yeah," Palu glanced down at her feet for a second. "So, uh, why don't you go on?"

"Remember Sonic's thing on Wednesday? Where that random son of a bitch went up to him and said all that?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I think you probably figured it out but I went to go and confront him," judging by the look on Palutena's face, she was neither displeased nor pleased, and even less so surprised, "more or less, well, he said some things that were kinda striking.

"I don't know whether these were, were his exact words but essentially it was, it was like," I paused, wondering how to phrase it, "Sonic's playstyle was overly defensive and there's no way to entertain a crowd doing that. Look, I'm not really affected by that - I mean, that's not it, though; it was that… we're brought here, from all these different pockets of the universe, to fight, and if we can't do it well, if we can't fight to the best of our abilities and perform, to create the 'maximum amount' of entertainment for our fans… then what, what are we?

"Like Sonic, my man, he's undeniably fast and agile to boot. I never thought of it like this… but that asshole - shit, it pains me to say it - but he's right. It's not the most fun to watch - the only people remotely close to his speed are Falcon, perhaps Samus and I; and Sonic, he's like a brother to me, and he is an amazing guy, and he wants to entertain a crowd, and ham it up, and have everyone have a great time.

" 'Sonic didn't deserve to be here,' " I said, in air quotation marks. "That was one of the other things he said. I disagree with that so much, knowing who he is and all… But he's bad at the thing he wants to do - to be a crowd pleaser - despite it being optimal play for him - how, how can, how do we deal with that? Sucking at the very thing you're destined to do just… well, it sucks, doesn't it?

"And what's more… this, this is how we're known to everyone in this universe. Back home… Sonic has a few friends, to say the least. I have one or two real ones - and at least not everyone watches boxing in New York. It's popular, but I can go out without being noticed. That's true here, too, being a human amongst gods and heroes… but, yet, I feel naked when I set one foot outside the door.

"Is our worth, just, determined by this?" I buried my face in my hands. "Palu… Can you answer those questions? And for the first bit, about Sonic, as a friend… is it wrong for me to not support that?"

Her arm crept around my shoulder affectionately.

I heard only her long inhale of breath.

"I think you're going about it like you always do, Mac. You bear a disproportionate amount of the guilt, and you don't deserve that. I mean, you've criticised my and Pit's game before - so why is it different for Sonic?"

It was rhetorical, but I needed to speak. "Y-you saw him, right? After it all?" Palu nodded gravely. "He looked so down and depressed, but no one knew what to say. That was painful for me to watch, Palu. You know how important I think friendship is, because we're in this foreign world and no-one else will stand up for us - when everything else fails, even if I don't get his struggle, I have to be there for him, stand beside him.

"And I couldn't do that, because if he looked me in the eye and asked me truthfully, there's no way I would have been able to lie to his face." I anxiously, repeatedly bit my lower lip, something to distract me as she sat there in silence.

Her face betrayed nothing. Completely neutral, but the look in her eyes was tumultuous. It was as though she too was affected by it, and she too was processing it, trying to get her whole hand around the problem to crush it from the outside. I stared, shallowly, into them, detached from the entire situation, just needing something to focus on to keep the onslaught of thoughts from rushing me down.

I wrinkled my hand, stroking the air, so the moment felt a little more real.

In that brief moment, I abruptly felt changed.

I felt less alone, but more afraid - afraid to lose Palu, the woman in front of me right now, afraid to lose what I had just gained - the feeling of safety and comfort by having someone there with me. It was the last wall of defense from me spiralling out of control - from the chaos in the world past those cold apartment doors with the tension of matches and and the conflict of having to live up to the expectations of others, to the deafening, lonely, empty, hollow dread that hid behind them - I couldn't run away from either without facing the other, and even then there was nothing for me to confront. No opponent for me to defeat, because the battle was all representative, symbolic, metaphorical; all inside rather than physical, or outside; and it was as though there was only one thing, a last bastion, a dam to stop the high tide from haphazardly destroying everything in its wake.

Her.

Suddenly, in those precious gems, in her eyes, the doorway to her soul, something shifted tersely, fricatively in them, and then they locked with me, black with wisps of green smoke coming off them suddenly clashing on the black of mine own.

She was staring straight at me.

"That's… that's a hard one."

We both chuckled.

"It's not just about criticising his game… That's on the physical level. It's more about friendship, isn't it." I nodded.

"As a friend, your first duty is to take care of them in a situation like this. It's not about what the facts are - as a goddess, I see it all the time. Our logical sides are dominated by our emotional sides as much as we want to believe the opposite.

"When they're feeling ready for it, that's when we look for solutions. This applies to Sonic, too. The playstyle thing is something we can work on; it's not just about defensive or offensive - you and I know it's much more nuanced than that. The fans don't really get that. But that's for later." Palu flashed me a smile, trying to gage my reaction.

I reciprocated as her words began forming in my head.

"And lastly… your self-worth. It wasn't just about him, was it?" I shook my head slowly.

Palu giggled lightly. "You can't hide anything from me."

She cleared her throat, becoming more serious again. "I understand that we're performers when it comes down to it… but really, why does what the crowd say, or think, matter? Smash is your life, Mac, and I know - we know - you love it. I've seen you train, and I know it better than anyone else does." She lowered her gaze, putting her hand on my chest.

Then, I felt it beat, gently, but consistently.

"But Smash… it's a goal of yours. Who are you, Mac? You don't have a Smash game more than once every week, or every day. It's a focus and your passion… but you're a person with the virtue of being the best friend anyone could ever want, strong values and determination, Mac - even on the days that you lose. That's why I," her voice faltered, "love you so dearly."

She picked it up again, albeit quickly.

"And if you want to still take the crowds' opinions into account… believe it or not, Mac, you have loyal, dedicated fans that enjoy your plays and cheer for you even when you lose and would kill to even have a photo, or an autograph, or other memorabilia… if it was from you."

Rupert's pimply, enthusiastic adolescent face flashed across my mind.

"They really want to meet you, Mac. You don't have the flashiest playstyle, or the biggest reputation that precedes you, and you aren't a beautiful woman like me," she grinned, "so your fans… I think your fans would have to be the most dedicated fans out of all the Smashers we know.

"They'd definitely want to get to know you."

I'm who I am first - they… don't know me? They don't know who I am, and I'm more than just a Smasher.

I'm more than just a Smasher.

And… I have fans? They want to meet me, they, they… do.

"It's funny, ain't it." The black of my eyelids turned to darkish yellow, with the sun paying us a visit, warming the covers of my sight.

"What-what do you mean?"

"I feel vulnerable, and insecure as a famous figure, and initially thought that was my everything. Yet at the same time, it feels absurd that I have fans."

She snorted, though not unkindly. "Yeah. You're not wrong about that - I don't feel the same way, because as a goddess - it's always really been like that for me. Whereas for you, you were just a boy who boxed, albeit very well, a few years back and well, look at you now!"

"Mmh. Yeah."

I paused, allowing the words entry, a disgruntled dragon prohibiting access to a sacred treasure. It was hard to process, as every time I thought of something, I forgot the previous thought as it felt all too absurd and surreal to fully allow in and accept as a fact. The stroke of my fingers on my face, the tactile touch of skin upon skin, it interfered with the vehicles of thought that collided with each other sometimes unknowingly, sometimes knowingly, and for that, I decided I would need more time to come to terms with this. My hands let themselves down, a drawbridge for a king.

The eyes opened.

The first thing I felt was the presence of her face, turning from mild and gentle to angsty and concerned. The moment was memorable, the negative of the shadow perfectly balancing the positive of the curves, and there was something satisfying about it all, especially in the eyes, her magnetic eyes...

"Do you… did that, did that help at all?"

"That… helped a lot. It did." I nodded, slowly. "Thanks, Palu."

"Never a problem, Mac. I'm here for you whenever you need."

There was no need for words right then. I rose up, gradually, so there was no sound of the padding bouncing back out on itself, and stood on my own two feet. I gingerly offered Palu my roughened, calloused hand.

She grasped it firmly, her soft, slightly cold fingers therapeutic to the touch; and as she wrapped their figures around mine, she pulled on it gently, just a tad bit, with the perfect amount of effort to stand.

Her slim, full form stood tall, although she no longer towered above me like before, her height was still proud and strong in its own way.

"We haven't been this close for a very, very long time," she said, laughing, "in both senses of the word."

"You're right."

"Mac, you've grown so much in the last three years. No one can call you 'little' anymore rightfully." Without her heels, she stood almost exactly as tall as I. "Bigger, and stronger, too," she continued, with the smallest hint of a smirk.

"Thanks, Palu." It didn't seem appealing to start talking about Jane and how she mentioned the same thing, especially given how that conversation ended yesterday. Although it was one of the things I'd initially wanted to talk about, the moment wasn't…

It didn't feel right.

"I'm just telling you how I see it, Mac."

"Mmh. Still the same amount of ugly, hey?"

"Same amount of handsome, too."

Without giving me a chance to think on it, she gravitated towards me a little, and I put my arms around her, bringing her into a tight, tender, vulnerable embrace. She brought her arms around my back tightly, stroking my back harmonically. Compared to before, rushed and a bit awkward, the contact against her body this time…

It felt much more… complete.

It was much warmer, much longer, much deeper.

It felt just right, to push tighter, right before it became uncomfortable or crushing.

"I'm so grateful to have you."

"I know you'd do the same for me."

It seemed right to end it right there, and as she retreated calmly, with all of her regal elegance, we both laughed lightly, at the situation. She smiled warmly.

"It's only about three in the afternoon, we've got time. D'you want to stay a bit longer? This flat can take two better than one."

"I don't mind."

"Neither do I."

( - Cianwood City | Pokémon Heartgold and Soulsilver - )

Even after that, there was one problem still left on my plate. Jane wasn't there.

She was always here for my matches in Tournament 4.

Ian.

The guy had always been a good sport to us. We'd never really been close, but at group outings he would sometimes turn up, and was another friendly face who cracked jokes and hung out. In a sense, it was weird how 'detached' he was from the rest of us - Falcon, R.O.B., Sonic, Palu, Pit and I, we only really knew him through Jane. It was strange because, even though Palutena technically was Pit's boss, they both were still fully present in the group.

I guess there was something that didn't work between them, and well, there we were.

"Mac?" Falcon's voice found its way into my ear.

"What's up, Cap'n?"

"Y'seemed real zoned out." We were standing together at the end of the railing; Palutena, Pit, R.O.B. and Sonic were deep in conversation on the other end in a cluster of four. The scintillating crimson of the sky looked so infinitely deep that I just wanted to swim in it, to feel it instead of watch it.

I wanted to get out of my own skin for a while.

"Just… thinking about the match." That wasn't untrue. Those two things battled for office space in my head, each fighting to pay the lesser share of the ever-rising rent.

"Y'want some tips? After all, back in the Melee tournament, 'ah was told to show Ganondorf the ropes. No one else wanted to go near 'im, after all."

"Whoa, really?"

"Y'mean y'never noticed?" The Falcon seemed more amused than offended. "Take a look at his Wizard's Foot, or Warlock Punch. Don't tell me that don't ring a bell in yer head."

It took me a second to understand what the Captain was referencing.

"Oh, damn! It's like your, uh, Falcon Kick and Falcon Punch, isn't it?"

The falcon insignia bobbed up and down.

"Right on, Mac," he started. "Y'see, Ganondorf is a lot larger than you or I. He's about, give or take," Falcon animatedly gesticulated with his hands, "seven to eight feet tall. A legitimately terrifying beast to fight, and y'don't see that 'till you're real up close.

"His special moves are all s'milar t'mine," he stated, "except for that Flame Choke. That thing is bloody dangerous and scary, and if 'e grabs you with it, you'll be on the ground. Truth be told, you'll want to avoid that at all costs. Watch 'is wrists, they start to get real steamy and purple before he goes for it, and it's not that fast, so ye'll be able to avoid it if yer alert enough."

I nodded. "Is there anything else he's gonna be searching for?"

"There's this 'signature' move o' mine - well, not a lot o' others try it, where I'll jump up," he responded, demonstrating a slower version with his feet, "and I'll kick once, then twice. Can't do it 'ere, because the gravity 'ere is too strong." He and I chuckled.

"But ye, Ganondorf isn't as slow as all them others are sayin', but compared tuh you, 'e is slow. I mean, most of 'is other moves all 'er slow; at least that first kick, most o' the time, it ain't powerful because it ain't need to snap back, but it's damn quick. I taught 'im it, after all. Ye'll be too stunned to block the second one if 'e aims that thing right."

"Mmh. What about his general playstyle?"

"Ganondorf… it's a toughie. Sword attacks 're all lethal. And all those silly old farts, those pen-pushers and 'experts'," Falcon emphasised that in air quotation marks, "say he oughtta stay to the bait 'n punish style, 'coz he's slow and that, but in personality, 'e's aggressive. 'E wants to beat ye down - 'e's domineerin' and a monster," he continued, "and that's the thing. It shouldn't work, but sometimes it does."

"What those 'analysts', or whatever they call themselves, don't unnerstand that there's that psychological effect of sorts. 'E's a big dude. He's tough, 'e's scary. And now, he wields a massive sword that kills. It kills, Mac, and people screw up jus' 'coz of that. If you can get above that," he jabbed me in the chest. "You can win against him, Mac. Three-stock 'im, even."

"You really reckon I could pull that off?"

"I get ye ain't the best in the air, Mac, but throw 'im off the level. Use that Jolt Haymaker o' yours." Falcon nodded, seemingly at his own comment. "Do whatever; I mean, 'e ain't as slow as most people think, but he definitely is slower than ya, and 'is recovery is, I'd say, a lot worse than yours, so ye got it, son. Just play it natural."

"Thanks, Falcon."

"Never a problem, Mac. I'll tell ya somethin' real quick," he said, collusively grinning. "Ye always reminded me a li'l bit of my nephew back in Mute City."

"Is that so?" I raised an eyebrow. "Wow, I never knew you had a nephew."

"Sister's son. I love my girl, but she got with a bad dude - I had no idea 'bout all this until she finally left 'im. Son was still young, and grew up to be a fine man, takin' care 'o his momma," the Captain stoically looked off into the sunset, averting his gaze, "and, well, that's all there is to it."

"That's… unfortunate, Cap'n. It really is. At least, though," I flipped my stare, "he's got a good male role model to look up to."

"That means a lot, Mac, thank yah."

I left the conversation there. It seemed fitting.

We stood there in silence, Falcon crossing his arms over the aluminum post, staring out into the open sea, the chirp of a few birds echoing off seemingly nothing. Wind coolly touched my shoulder, the lingering feeling that held on held like the touch of a familiar friend, gentle and welcome but without formality, without the same uncomfortable and nervous way one might treat their acquaintances or guests. The great big ball of fire in the sky had descended just low enough to touch the sea, a hearty greeting, perhaps a 'good evening' of sorts between the two biggest forces of the world.

"I'll leave ye alone, Mac. I know ya got a lot on yer mind."

"Thanks. I appreciate that, Falc."

"Adiós." He strode off to meet the others.

The image of Palutena today reverberated in the cold black chamber of my closed eyelids. The recollection gave me some strength, some power, and some confidence. Her face, the knowledge of it, the feeling of her being with me took away the feeling of lonesomeness. Even when I would be on the stage, fighting to my heart's content tonight, I would be supported somehow - she would be there to stave off the loneliness and dread, and I would be able to focus fully on the opponent against me.

As I stood there, slowly opening my eyes to the darkening background of gorgeous, aging violet, I felt contentment.

Let's do this.

• • • • •

( - Route 119 Theme | Pokémon Ruby and Sapphire - )

I was alone in the waiting room.

Normally, it would have been a painful, anxiety-inducing experience, especially being the final, anchor round. Hey, Sonic, did you know that the main stadium can seat over twelve thousand people? Pit's voice echoed in my head, and the numbers stuck themselves firmly into my head.

Not being able to stay still, twiddling my thumbs, I chose to nap on the bed they provided for a bit, getting myself some rest before the main event.

At about t - 30 minutes, I had begun to warm up. Some pushups, some dynamic stretches, and now it was time for the final exercise.

One, two, three, four; two, two, three, four.

Jumping jacks. Hands down, legs apart; then, hands up, feet together, the two positions interchanging themselves in split seconds.

Three, two, three, four; four, two, three, four.

I just kept going.

Five, two, three, four; six, two, three, four.

No thoughts running through, just focussing on the numbers pulsing through my brain.

Seven, two, three, four; eight, two, three, four.

Until they would call me. "Mac."

Nine, two, three, four; ten, two, three, four.

Until they called me. "Mac!"

Eleven, two, three, four; twelve, two, three, four.

"Mac!" Jared's voice rang out, muffled by the door. I unlocked it, and let the bespectacled man in. "It's time, man, please, please don't be late. I'd get fired, man, and I have a mortgage."

He was always a friendly face before the matches' occurrence. "Aight, sorry Jared; you're right, let's go."

The slim, short brunette led me down the narrow chamber-ish hallway, with white walls and blue painted floors, offices few and far between on either side. After a short walk through the maze, Jared brought me to the two rooms, one room glowed red, the other blue.

The room was made of a translucent glass, with a large enigmatic, mysterious silver lock on each of the double doors sealing them together. The outside was dark, so the contrast of the cyan- and red-lit rooms held their own grandeur. The blue room right beside the maroon had already been locked - the one undoubtedly already containing Ganondorf.

From behind the doors, I heard the faint noise from the sound system, of the sweaty fire of the twelve-thousand people in the crowd, and all I thought about was the quarter-hundred thousand eyes and ears that would be focussed on me and my opponent. That was the only sound, outside the rush of the flowing air conditioning, in the atmosphere.

Jared fumbled for his keys. "I believe in you, but good luck, man." He shoved a key underneath the lock, twisting it strangely twice in different directions. It opened to reveal a black electronic keypad with white backlit numbers, arranged in rows and columns of three. All that served to do was intensify the tension, the gravity of the situation.

"You're going to need it - Ganondorf is tough," he admitted, punching in a long series of numbers. "Mmh." The double glass doors parted once more.

"Alright… uh, I hate to bore you, and you've heard this so many times, but it's due process," Jared sighed, "again, I'm not allowed in there, and once you go in, you're not allowed back out."

I gazed into the room, slightly chilly in my black singlet.

"Your match should start in three minutes, so be ready; when the red LEDs above the screen tell you to go, go, and step on the plate. Stay focussed man, and yeah, that's it. So, uh… are you ready to go in?"

"Yeah." I stepped beyond the doors.

"You'll be fine man," he said, giving me a grin. "See you, Mac. Best of luck."

( - 离开以后 (After Leaving) | 张学友 (Jacky Cheung) - )

With that, Jared left. I was alone. There was a beeping sound of the electronic pad locking, then the silver physical lock. The air was coloured a disconcerting red for fighter number one. I sat down on the comforting cushion. On the table in front, which doubled as a trash can with an elegant white-on-black marble finish, there was a singular bottle of water. Luxuriously, little bumps on the surface of the plastic bottle rubbed against my fingers.

The only other thing in the room was the TV screen, with a small, compact speaker system and the warp pad. On-screen, Hero battled bravely against Decidueye, the owl Pokémon from Alola. Despite being on his final stock, the Luminary continued to play offensively, pushing back with fast flurries of sword slashes.

Having been pressured, the Pokémon quickly grabbed his opponent and slammed him into the stage, throwing him back. To follow up, Decidueye nocked an arrow to his 'bow'. As Hero got up once more - looking like death himself - the crowd went wild. For a brief moment, he hesitated.

That was all it took for the ruthless nocturnal archer to fire straight into the young man's chest, and he flew off, a brilliant beam of light penetrating the screen, illuminating Decidueye's severe, hawkish features. He bowed elegantly to the rising draught of the crowd. The announcer's voice boomed omnipresently from the speakers.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THAT'S GAME!"

There was a second screen above the TV with instructions. In little beady lights, it spelled out an instruction. PLEASE STEP ONTO THE WARP PAD.

I took a final drink of water, sealing the water bottle.

"THANK YOU, DECIDUEYE AND THE LUMINARY - THEY'VE DONE AMAZING WORK TONIGHT OUT ON THE BATTLEFIELD!"

I stared at the form of the water bottle for a second, trying to compose myself.

"THAT'S OUR SECOND-TO-LAST BATTLE FINISHED FOR THIS BEAUTIFUL FRIDAY EVENING!"

I closed my eyes, remembering Palu's face with me, and everyone else's too.

"YOU'VE BEEN AN AMAZING AUDIENCE SO FAR!"

Pit's cheerful grin.

"WHAT A TIME IT'S BEEN - WE'VE HAD SOME UPSETS-"

Falcon's fatherly advice.

"-THE CHAMPION OF TWO DIMENSIONS ABSOLUTELY DESTROYING-"

R.O.B.'s warm friendship.

"-THE YOUNG LION, ROY-"

Jane's encouraging smile.

"-AND THE FIRECRACKER-SIZED SWORDSMAN, META KNIGHT-"

Sonic's smartass wisecracks and the wrong that had been done against him.

"-WINNING AGAINST LINK!"

The image of his face burned into my head. Let's do this for him - do this to prove that asshole wrong, to prove that I am significant - that we are significant.

"IT'S BEEN A WILD NIGHT!"

I opened my eyes. The red LEDs above the main TV screen buzzed a red 10.

9.

I strode toward the warp pad, inhaling.

8.

"NOW, FOR OUR FINAL,"

7.

I planted my feet on the radiant red tile. Whoosh.

6.

"-AND MAIN EVENT-" I exhaled.

5.

"-IT'S TIME FOR-"

4.

"-THE KING OF DARKNESS, GANONDORF-"

3.

"-VERSUS-"

2.

"-THE BRUISER FROM THE BRONX-"

1.

"-LITTLE MAC!"

WARP PAD ACTIVATED.

With that, it went dark.